Upon entering the garden in the community one morning
Quite to my dismay, I found my gardener friend had pulled out
The white yarrow, my medicine plant.
Not only so rude were they who cut my yarrow but also cut
The lemon balm- such a delicate fragrance, bright and clear.
All the wonderful gourds fell down as summer was over,
I mourned deeply,
flower petals fell as tears tenderly upon the soil,
the rose that climbs above the lemon balm wept softly,
Returning to her gaunt form, all thorns and branches.
Where is my lemon balm tea? She cried out, cut to the root.
I vented, then I cried, wondering too-
Suddenly I knew,
That in the dream I'd had of planting the rose at that spot beside
David's plot was a prayer
for healing to bring good vibes into the garden
as it climbs high to the sky, dreaming
With Lemon Balm returning to hover at her feet.
